


Listen Close

by whirlyblurrs (acemodeus)



Series: Rarepair Palooza [3]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Begging, Bottoming from the Top, Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Gay Robots, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, M/M, Praise Kink, Riding, Robot Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Topping from the Bottom, Voice Kink, robot boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acemodeus/pseuds/whirlyblurrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smokescreen only seems to behave when there's something that he wants involved.<br/>What he wants, of course, is to hear his favorite yellow bot's voice.</p><p>Unfortunately, he has to work for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen Close

**Author's Note:**

> I knew this would happen.  
> Knew I'd write porn eventually.
> 
> But did I ever think I'd write robot porn? Hell no.  
> But do I like writing robot porn? Hell YEAH.
> 
> (first robo smutfic, go easy on me you beautiful people you.)

He has Smokescreen spread across his lap, two fingers buried in the speedster's valve as he arches and shudders above him. Despite his dislike of his face-guard, Bumblebee has it up across his mouth, hindering his partner from seeing his mouth move when he speaks. He knows this irritates Smokescreen, which is why he does so; he loves to make him beg for it, after all.

The two fingers thrust upwards roughly, and the tight valve spasms around them, as Smokescreen keens loudly and begins to pant and wheeze. His arms are fidgeting, struggling to reach anywhere upon his partner and touch him, but the stasis cuffs locking his servos behind his back restrict such actions; Bumblebee has gone to great lengths to ensure that he is completely and utterly in control tonight, which Smokescreen has done little to no complaining about.

"Augh...'B-'Bee, fragging...take the mask off already..."

An optic ridge is raised on Bumblebee's part, and Smokescreen whines and thrashes as a third finger wedges into his slowly-loosening valve. The digits begin to make a scissoring motion and, for a moment, the speedster fears he'll be knocked offline from the wave of pleasure that rockets through his systems.

"Giving me orders, Smokey? Tsk, tsk, I thought you knew better."

Smokescreen's valve clenches down at the sound of his partner's voice--smug and sweet as it was--and transfluid begins to soak the servo currently stretching it. Bumblebee gives a cheeky smirk behind his face-guard, one that Smokescreen cannot see, much to his chagrin. 'Bee then furrows his optic ridges, his face looking as contemplative as it possibly can while lacking a mouth to express it further.

"Maybe if you beg, I'll consider it...?"

Smokescreen's entire frame shudders, and his servos shift and tug uselessly within their binds as he near doubles over as those fingers in his valve give a forceful twist. He gasps, loudly, optics locking with Bumblebee's own as words begin to frantically fall out of his mouth, one after the other; desperation has won over stubbornness.

"Please, 'Bee, please, oh Primus, I feel like I'm gonna burst-! Please, take the dumb mask off, let me see your mouth, please, stop messin' around and get on with it!"

Bumblebee hums lowly, seemingly pleased with his partner's sudden submissive attitude, before the guard retracts and the fingers are yanked free from the sopping wet valve. Smokescreen slumps forward, frantically leaning towards the yellow bot in order to capture his now-visible lip-plates in a sloppy kiss. 'Bee tilts his helm to the side defiantly, smirking as Smokescreen whines aloud when his lips hit a metallic cheek. The white and blue frame began to twist and grind against his lap, and 'Bee's optics flicker with arousal as his partner looks at him with desperation.

"You know what you have to do, Smokey."

A full-frame shudder coursed through the speedster, and he forcefully willed himself to keep still as he bowed his helm.

"Please, 'Bee...please frag me. I want you so badly right now."

The smaller bot's interface panel retracts with a soft _click_ , and Smokescreen presses his knee joints eagerly against his partner's side as the small, fat cord springs freely upwards. Slowly, the speedster lowers himself, the rim of his valve brushing against the tip and, with an encouraging pat on the aft, began to grind against it with fervor. A small servo--the one not currently covered in his fluids, it seems--gently rubs at his hip, small fingers slipping into gaps in the armor and teasing the wires beneath.

"Very good, Smokey...you're amazing."

The speedster bites at his lower lip-plate, electricity singing through his processors as he mentally bathes in the praise being sent his way. His servos clench behind his back, silently wishing that 'Bee would free him and allow him to thank him for the wonderful treatment with touches of his own. He begins to lose himself in his thoughts, fantasizing about 'Bee pressing him backwards onto the berth, and then riding his face until he was good and satisfied; he imagines those tiny servos grasping at his helm, holding him in place, forcing him to swallow all of the fluids that gush into his mouth, all the while panting out praises and gasping out his name and how thankful he was to have him there-

The fantasy is enough to drive him into a bit of a frenzy, and Bumblebee suddenly groans aloud as the valve near his spike almost plunges down onto him, the very rim clenching around the tip and dragging it upwards, seeming to invite it in with eagerness. He looks upwards at Smokescreen, seeing the pleading expression and lust-dimmed optics weakly gazing down at him in turn. After a moment, he seems to find his voice, and he makes sure to purr his words--soft, low and sweet--order to play it up for his well-behaving partner.

"Do you want me inside of you, Smokescreen?" The grip on his hip suddenly tightens by a fraction. "Do you want my thick spike in your valve?"

Smokescreen began to nod frantically, valve near-gushing fluids onto the spike below as his hips cant forward weakly.

"What do you say?"

The word came grinding out, laced with something akin to annoyance.

"PLEASE."

A soft chuckle came tumbling from 'Bee's mouth, before his lips were quirking upward into a sly smirk.

"Very good."

The hand on his hip began pressing him down, and as the smaller bot's spike began to slide into the tight, wet port above, Smokescreen took a moment to reset his optics, as he found his vision blurring in response to the pressure down below. Despite the fact that Bumblebee's equipment was much too small to hit his ceiling node, Smokescreen took pleasure in his tiny partner's ability to stretch his valve almost to its limits. It was a tight fit, it always was, and every time was more amazing than the last because of it.

Once he was fully seated in the bigger bot, Bumblebee began to thrust, in and out, slow when exiting and then quick when re-entering, and Smokescreen found himself squealing as the thick spike was rubbing against the sensors in his valve with rough excitement. Smokescreen's ventilations came out quick and heavy, frame quaking in ecstasy as the servo on his hip kept playing with the wires hidden beneath his armor, and the sweet voice of his partner continuously whispering sweet, loving words.

"So good, Smokey. You're the best...perfect in every way, sweetspark."

The wave of praise shot pleasure straight to his groin and, with a squeak of embarrassment from the larger bot, Smokescreen's interface hatch was flinging itself open. Bumblebee found himself staring as a long, thin cable began extending outward and upward, bobbing lightly as Smokescreen's frantic bouncing continued on. Bumblebee was smirking, wider than before, and soon found his servo drifting forward, hovering over the stiff spike in front of him.

"So cute, Smokey...do you want me to touch it? Should I reward your good behavior?"

Smokescreen began nodding frantically, the intensity of the pleasure coursing through his systems clouding his processor and making vocal confirmation next to impossible. With a breathy laugh, the smaller bot let his servo wrap around the base of his partner's spike, fingers stroking and rubbing from base to tip, dipping into the tiny grooves to tickle the biolights built into the sides of it. Smokescreen's reaction was a glitching, hissing squeal, vocals resetting multiple times as the servo around his spike began to pump him lazily. His hips began to rut, valve clenching and un-clenching spasmodically in tandem with his partner's strokes. Bumblebee, venting loudly in response to the valve's spasms around his spike, gave a light squeeze to the base of Smokescreen's own stiff cord, causing his partner to babble madly in ecstasy.

"'Bee-Oh, frag, 'Bee, I can't...I'm not gonna last much longer...! Please, _please_ , let me-...let me-, oh frag, _please Bumblebee_!"

A servo shot upward, latching into Smokescreen's shoulder plating and dragging him downward, sheathing the smaller bot's spike fully inside of him, before the whimpering bot found his lips smothered by Bumblebee's own. Smokescreen feels a finger flick at the tip of his spike, and soon he's shuddering and sobbing as the fat cord in his valve throbs deliciously.

"Go ahead and overload. I know you want to. You're so perfect, Smokescreen. Go ahead and discharge that pent-up energy."

With a barely-contained shriek, Smokescreen's spike spurts a jet of transfluid across the smaller bot's chassis, valve bearing down on the intrusive spike as tremors wracked his tired frame. With the sudden pressure around his cord, Bumblebee lets out a soft moan before flooding Smokescreen's valve, his spike acting as a plug and trapping the fluid within.

Leaning back, Smokescreen felt his knee joints give out, slumping forward onto Bumblebee's chassis with a tiny wheeze. Bumblebee, releasing his grip on his partner's spike, let his servo drift upwards, allowing it to gently rest atop one of Smokescreen's doorwings. The liquid sloshing around in his rear port made the speedster a bit uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to complain about it; especially not when it was scoring him some prime cuddling time with his favorite yellow bot, even if he was meant to lay about in his own transfluid in order to secure said cuddling.

Cooling fans kicking on, Smokescreen let his gaze wander up to Bumblebee's face-plates, a sleepy smile manifesting.

"Mm...did I do good, or did I do _good_?"

Bumblebee let out a laugh, a grin sliding into place as he began to toy with the glass of Smokescreen's doorwings lazily.

"Amazing as always, sweetspark."

Smokescreen's engines gave a happy little rev, nuzzling his helm against Bumblebee's affectionately whom, in turn, gave him a soft kiss upon his helm crest.

He knew they would have to get moving and clean up the mess they made eventually.  
But, at that moment, Smokescreen did nothing but cuddle closer to his mate; clean-up could wait for a while.

And, when he had Bumblebee whispering sweet nothings into his audials, how could he possibly force himself to do anything but listen?

**Author's Note:**

> (Blah crap ending is crap.)  
> Will I ever stop writing SmokeBee?  
> Nah.
> 
> May write a different pair soon though.  
> Maybe.
> 
> (Any spelling mistakes? Grammatical errors? Lemme know and I'll fix it.)


End file.
